


when you're only me.

by argenterie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Friendship/Love, H/R/Hr - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, R/Hr/H, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, The Golden Trio, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, harry/hermione/ron - Freeform, r/h/hr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2045367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argenterie/pseuds/argenterie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, writes a poem about Harry, the man she shouldn't love, but, despite everything, he is the man she does love. She does love him.</p>
<p>She does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you're only me.

Hermione sits at her desk.

 

The war is over, it's finished. She is with Ron, she loves Ron. They are the happiest they have ever been.

 

But.

 

There is a part of her that remembers holding Harry's hand, on the bridge, as Hogwarts burned behind them all.

The tent, when Ron left them both, and she was just dancing with Harry, in the tent, feeling Harry's cheek against her own cheek.

And she remembers, the next night, after that dance, in the tent, the mattress on the floor, the way Harry looked at her. The way her whole world pivots on that moment.

During the war.

And Harry, ohgod, Harry. His eyes, the way his hair swept over his glasses, and his scar, and just... Oh, how he looked at her.

Harry. The way he looked at her.

And how close it got.

And then Ron, he came back, and it's all, oh it's wonderful, oh Ron, how much she loves Ron, it's insane and beautiful and illogical, but she loves Ron so much, and being a Weasley is all she's ever wanted...

She is happy.

This is the world that she loves.

And she loves Ron.

But.... Harry.

Ohgod.

Oh, Harry.

Harry.

And Hermione sits at the desk. And then, she starts typing:

 

\---

 

there is a riot in my consciousness:

a precious

green/heart

a flowering

of chemical joy.

 

(closed eyes

a gasp

my head tilts back

— but I’m alone.)

 

when you’re only me:

playing games of that bleached

ashen color

and my skin under your hands is so white, so pale, so unmarred

 

I lay back on the wasted mattress

(we are just on your floor, one pillow,

this is happening, here)

 

(and ohgod what am I doing here)

my hands clenching the back of your head

fingers bent

my wrecked fingernails sliding down your neck

and I realize

suddenly

without planning

that I

am so alone.

 

sensing you fading

 

and something shatters inside the core of my being (this open sigh)

it’s more than your laughter, in that tent,

dancing in my memories for all time.

 

-watching you smile-

 

I cannot seem to lose your touch.

 

you slide across the months, to press your warmth to my skin in the night

holding me in this loneliness

my rasping breath falling into the silence

(I will not cry. I will not.)

 

-the gentle pressure of your hands against my back-

 

I remember I felt you.

I was awakened by the certainty that you were here.

alongside me.

 

opened these eyes to the blackness (blind)

but there was nothing. (yet still feeling the warmth of your fingers tracing my skin)

 

the recollection

I slept inside the embrace of your arms curled up tight

 

(in my dreams you dance with me, in the tent, the music plays, the world goes by, and you are still dancing, still holding me, still dancing, with me.)

 

and your kisses on my shoulders stirred me from my rest

though exhausted you came to me that night I opened my eyes to see yours before me

-I wanted to believe that I could see your devotion-

 

and you were solemn

maybe, whispering “I love you,” in the deep starlit darkness

but now-

\-- I realize --

I never saw your lips move.

 

they never moved.

 

this perfect moment tucked into my mind with all the rest.

something hidden (alone) i’m helpless i feel your breath again

but it’s

fading.

 

you caress my fingertips.

I remember you today

something violent in the way you look at me now

some sort of anger i can’t understand.

 

I have climbed up the walls of the tent

kissed you

slipped my hand inside your robe

I’m fully aware of what I have done

an inch more

and I’d have lost it:

 

a bright red slip of cloth. Griffindor robes. That is all.

That's all that stood between us.

 

now:

these blisters on the crack in my heart

electricity, writhing.

echoing.

 

when you’re only me:

(a gnarled tongue)

it moves slowly along the bare skin of my back

and your fingers are here

ohgod sliding

down the heart of me, down my foundation.

my delicate spine under your hands.

the center dips, as you slide your hands along me.

I ask why you turn away

why you don’t notice

when my tears come.

why you keep going

after I ask you to stop.

 

I want to know why

you

can’t

see

the unreality

which cloaks us both —

a white overhanging fuck.

 

I know what I’m doing

but I’m not doing it well.

 

you tear me

when you touch me.

 

and I am still here

a folded creation

of yours.

legs tucked up underneath me

nodding off, sweetly gentled.

while you busy yourself

digging

hurting.

another four fingers crammed into me.

 

(I see a vision:

a gliding broomstick

there’s no power, but it still soars

there’s just momentum

and it coasts

until

it can’t fly anymore)

master of red

(greenheart)

a tongue a tooth

this intense gaze

your eyes see inside of me. they see so deep inside of me.

(the broomstick... crashes into the ground, exploding, disastrous, dying.)

 

this is me:

I whisper my blackened hopes

the crisped dreams

that have withered and peeled away over the years.

these, my intricate fantasies, that could withstand

all

but for this.

 

I can’t withstand this.

 

you smile today over the stretch of distance

and I see it in my mind

I remember you, and I lose nothing.

 

It is all still here.

It is still

here.

 

and I am you.

only you

only

you.

 

\---

 

Hermione stands from the desk. She reads over the things she has written tonight.

She reads them again, and again, and again.

And then she finally, deliberately...

 

She highlights it all. And she breathes one last time.

And then

She deletes all of it.

 

She stands there in front of the desk.

Her heart, it's aching, but she does not cry.

She watches the words erase from the screen.

She feels, as it fades from her own mind.

She turns away, and walks back into the room, where Ron waits for her.

Where Ron waits.

Ron.

 

\----

End.


End file.
